Maturity is Overrated

We are in Switzerland. I do not want to leave Switzerland. I think I could stay here forever. Maybe even through winter. Specifically, I could stay in Ballenberg forever. When we came across this open air museum in a book and then visited the website, I was instantly taken... maybe a pinch skeptical. Watch their hypnotic video, like we did and you may be skeptical too. How can a place be this lovely?


If you need the rush of city sights and easy access to subways, then you may not appreciate Ballenberg the way I do. If the smell of pine and the sound of cow bells ringing in flower filled meadows is not appealing then please excuse me... I loved the Swiss Open Air Museum it makes me tearful to recall, to accept that we could not stay all day, to come to terms with having to leave at all.


Max, Maria and I climbed aboard a horse drawn wagon when we entered the museum. Geoff, William and Alex chose to walk. The horses wore bells that jingled rhythmically with every clip-clop of the horses hooves, and this made the merry tune we listened to as we rode through forest, around gardens, passed the oldest standing house in Switzerland, by barns and turkeys, chickens, rabbits, goats, sheep, cows. Each area within the museum park represents a unique region in Switzerland and features crafts, and trades, animals and architecture of that cultural area. The houses are appointed with either demonstrations of work, like basket weaving, pottery and blacksmithing, or activities for children, or displays illustrating different topics like conservation or history.


Everything is active and interactive and a living, working and playing world for people to explore nature, history, culture, farm life, agriculture... or just enjoy a beautiful hike.


I think we saw about 25% of it. Once again we were on a time budget, otherwise we could have easily stayed the whole day. One park had fire rings and available wood, so that some families were cooking their lunches. Alex pointed out that one spot held my Trinity of Joy: chickens, goats and bunnies... frolicking together in the same lovely yard, with a charming little house. Everywhere we looked there was something to delight the senses and engage the mind.


Gah.


Sometimes writing is frustrating. I seldom feel as though I am really tapping into the core of my deep thoughts, actually saying things the way I want to say them. Not for lack of trying. This is particularly disappointing to me at this time. I cannot sing and I have always believed if I could sing, if I could hit the right notes and carry a tune, then people would hear and understand me. I am not a skilled artist. There are scenes and images and concepts that stay locked up inside me, because they never appear on paper or in clay, the way they do in my mind. There was so much at Ballenberg that struck a chord with me, that moved me and made me happy, that it was like a tangible manifestation of every song I cannot sing, of every poem I cannot write, of every painting in my mind. It was the corners and windows, the winding paths and garden beds of my dreams. I want to recreate it in words, then paint it in pictures. I want to share the melody of it, that I can hear and feel. I want what was expressed there to be a part of my life and what I achieve and live with and demonstrate. It is the strangest sensation to feel so attached to a place, and having to accept that it is not a part of me.


I know it is a re-creation... a genuine place, but not entirely real. And maybe I should not try to explain myself or describe how dear goats and chickens and bunnies are, together eating hay, while baby pigs shuffle in straw, and houses stand like open and welcoming with flowers and pear trees and swept porches... maybe it's sacred, to me. Maybe I should just let it be.


Maturity helped me leave without crying and whining.
Maturity can be hard.

Driving Fast

As fast as we are driving, we don't seem to get any place too soon. Our mistake? We may have aimed for too many stops in our European Sampler. Geoff will never admit that he regrets stretching ourselves so thin, even though we are sitting at a German rest stop while he naps. Yesterday we drove from Gelderland, Netherlands, through Limburg and all the way to Triberg, Germany. And by “we” I mean Geoff, because we are in a manual transmission Espace. I drive automatic. Anyway, driving all that way and stopping to see the Kasteelruins of Valkenburg, got us in to our hotel at 23:50. Such a beautiful drive, while it was still light, but hard too. The GPS is either doing an amazing job or she, we call her Sheila, is completely random and prone to stoopidty. It's hard to tell. We drove through the Netherlands, then Belgium, then France, then Texas, then back in to Germany... Sheila delights in making us take horrible and absurd detours when a u-turn would suffice.

Update: That was written on our way to Switzerland on the fourth of July and now it is Sunday morning. 5 July. Brienz Switzerland.

Geoff never should admit we are spread too thin. It is all worthwhile. We are a bit travel weary and we definitely wish we had more time to spend in the places we are driving through and the places we have stayed over.

Triberg, Germany was adorable and the people were incredibly friendly and considerate. We made an embarrassingly fast visit of the town. Saw the giant cuckoo clock and took dozens of pictures of window boxes full of the brightest and prettiest red geraniums I have ever seen. Everything was unbelievably quaint and charming... to the point where I have abused the words “quaint” and “charming,” and was forced to rely on “cute” and “precious” as well. The drive out of town was almost excruciatingly quaint, charming, cute and precious and I was gasping, sighing and exclaiming over every barn, window shutter and foxglove filled meadow in sight. We even came to a narrow stretch where we had to wait for cows to be herded across the road. Chickens on haystacks and a woman in an apron and a kerchief on her head was raking in a forest clearing... I got the picture in my mind, but unfortunately not in my camera.

Switzerland. Whoa. Hey, when they say “going through the Alps,” they are not kidding. We have never been in so many tunnels in our lives. Long ones. Forget the time of day long. Uphill long. Really, really long. Longer than this description.

We had a blast. We laughed and marveled and delighted at every twist and rise. Toward the end of our drive we stopped going through the Alps and actually started driving up the mountain. The green and lush, waterfall dotted, chalet covered mountain. I begged to hear yodeling and craved fondue. I wanted to find grandfather and the goats and drink milk and make cheese and braid daisy chains to wear in my hair. I need a dirndle.

We passed many lakes that are a color I have no name for. Slate blue? Sky gray? Iced jade? It rained. It is a perfect temperature. We arrived at our hotel and could not believe our fortune. Brienz is the kind of place you would feel lucky to see, to drive by and hope to visit, and we are actually waking up here... on a lake! We are in a comfortable hotel apartment with views of the lake from all three rooms. We have been watching clouds and water, chalets and boats, ducks and mountain faces... all changing, appearing and disappearing in the sunlight. It was not fireworks for our Fourth, but it has been a breathtaking display. Also in view is a church and we have been serenaded by its bells ringing the hour. The view from every corner, from any angle, is an idyllic postcard. Honest. How will we ever leave? When can we return?

I do not want to temper my mood, but I am keenly aware of how much I want and need to appreciate being here, being in the moment and thanking God for our blessings. I am quite certain that the Blue House will not be ours. It breaks my heart. Pity Party forthcoming.

My aunt Liz has been keeping us updated on her parents' health. My tia and uncle Bill have been fixtures in my mind and heart for as long as I can remember. If I were not here, I would be there, visiting them and trying to find the words that comfort, trying to be helpful somehow. Liz, and Beckie... their entire family, my Abuela too, are all easing my tia's days as she prepares for heaven.

At this very moment the church is ringing out the hour and a calling for service. Tearfully, I recall our own church in El Valle, all the services there and the inspiring and sustaining faith my Abuela has. The resonance of the bells is vibrating in my heart. It is not stopping. To the very last ring, it stirs the air and my spirit.

Maria has been sad, homesick, only twice on the entire trip. The first time did last several tear filled hours in which she mournfully called out for Izzy. “I miss Izzy! I need Izzy! Izzy. Izzy! Oh, Izzy...” sniffle-sniffle. I've been homesick too. I think every pretty house, fat hen, and lovely town makes me wish for home, for a home of our own... otherwise I think I could just keep traveling and seeing new sights and waiting. Someday I will have flower boxes and chickens on haystacks and a fenced yard with a veggie garden. Someday I will be unpacked and have family pictures on walls... walls painted the colors that I like.

But now... now we are Here and here is a beautiful place to be. We are healthy and feeling strong from many great walks. We have enjoyed amazing sights and good laughs, even the stimulating challenge of being a bit turned around or wondering if we are in the right place, doing the right thing... just yesterday Geoff and I had an unexpected lesson in “how to use a public bathroom in a Swiss truck stop.” Our trip won't last much longer, but I hope to be in the moment, appreciating all of it while I am here and then savoring the memories later.

Oh for goodness sake... it's too good here. Too good, I'm telling you. Geoff just called me to the porch so I could see the white swan on the lake. It glided by on mist, as regal and elegant as any fairy tale swan could ever be.

I am too cynical to believe that any place is perfect.
I am too hopeful to stop wishing for something that comes close.

I hope you had a wonderful Fourth of July.

Like Comic-Con With Better Food!

Bruxelles is one lively place. Once we parked and settled in to our rooms it wasn't long before we realized we were in a place that was going to be ideal for sights and fun. Our hotel was a lucky find... about a two minute walk from the Grand Place, a UNESCO world heritage site. I know I already mentioned the food, but seriously... good food is not hard to come by in Bruxelles! And laundry day was a huge success too!


We were only there two nights, but our rooms were comfortable and we were more at ease about everyone moving at their own pace. Geoff took a long explore on his own. Alex and I met fellow blogger and new resident of Bruxelles, Dallas... she's keeping a beautiful and travel inspiring blog about her new life living in Belgium. It's a great mix of amazing photography, nature, daily adjustments and sewing... For The Journey is a favorite blog. Today she is posting about the heat wave... it's pretty bad here in the Netherlands too!


Dallas also passed along her comic-mural map of Bruxelles. The city is dotted with comic scene murals painted on walls. We found some of them, and the Tintin store. William and Alex were reading Tintin before we arrived in Europe, so it was fun to visit the gallery-store and to recognize the mural near our hotel. Max and Maria joined their brothers in Tintin appreciation.


My mom was asking to hear from the boys... what are they doing and thinking? The answer is: They are trying new foods, taking long, long walks, exploring sites and people watching. We met Del and Joyce, a couple from Chicago... we shared a long lunch and engaging conversations about Wisconsin, video gaming, traveling, multiculturalism and where to find the best chocolate! They ordered the mussels and even Max gave the local favorite a try. He said they were good and he said he did not need to order a pot of his own. William got to enjoy a chance to share his knowledge of video games and the process of making games... the kinds of games and methods of producing different game styles. Later William took over the camera to capture some images of this beautiful place... we all love the local custom of gathering in a central place, relaxing, conversing, expressing through art, music... I know, this is my point of view, but mom, the boys play so hard and so late that they sleep until we are on the move again! Computer time is brief and I get it only because I wake early to write before we head out the door again! Until they tell you or make time to write, know that they have been engaged and intrigued and good and very, very busy!






Did I mention Alex is talking about going to school in Bruxelles? He is especially taken with the city, including the “pedestrians first” traffic rules, the amazing sandwiches and definitely the jar of Speculoos Dallas gave us. He also loves the many bookstores and all the great comic art.


The time! Gotta go!

We head to Germany today, all the way to the Black Forest. It may be sometime before I can post again... depending on WIFI availability etc. We are making our way from Netherlands to Barcelona in the next 4 days!



One of William's beautiful Bruxelles photograph.


Coming soon! The future is now!
Can you guess where our last stop in Bruxelles was?

Time to Reflect

We are in the Netherlands. I wrote a brief update about how much we love this quiet and comfortable place in the Veluwe... it was brilliant, so naturally it got scrambled and lost when I tried to post it last night. Wish me luck as I compose a second post... this time reflecting on our last day in Paris. You see, it is so calm and relaxing here, that I am beginning to process all of the sights, sounds, impressions and highlights of our days in France.

We got brave our last day in Paris. Since half of us wanted to go back to the sailboat pond in the Tuileries Garden, and the other half wanted to walk under Paris in the Catacombs, we decided to split up, take different Metro lines and meet later at the Louvre. Geoff, William and Alex left first and they took the camera. Max, Maria and I left soon after and our first stop was a last visit to the Marche San Quentin... where we could buy beautiful fruits and fresh baguettes and even chicken... feathered-severed head optional. We bought bread and cheese and fruit, juices, and cured sausage... all for a garden picnic. Maria makes a friend in every shop and marche stall. She collected a small breakfast she could eat as we walked around the small open stall market. She and Max shared cherries and petite croissants, then we made the brisk walk to the Metro Station Gare d l' Est for our ride to Palace Louvre on line 7. Max learned to keep track of which line we needed to catch and which stop was best for our destination.


The walk from the Louvre station to the Pond is fairly long, especially through crowds and with a four year old, who's knee is all better by the way. We took our time. We walked down the Rue Rivoli, then cut across through the Louvre, near the Pyramid. Every language can be heard walking around Paris and we were surrounded by school groups and vendors, a bride and groom posed for portraits, and of course there are cars, buses and bike and motorbikes in the mix too. It's a rush. Either exhilarating or exhausting, sometimes both. Never dull.

We were lucky and grateful to find chairs in the shade. We parked ourselves in view of the ferris wheel, near the statue of Cain... poor Cain stands in utter shame and remorse after slaying his brother. How does an artist carve grief out of marble?

We unpacked small toys for Maria to play with, we talked about how long it might be before William and Alex and Geoff joined us. We looked for the man with the sailboats, and we knew he would not come around as long as there were still storm clouds... the thunder, lightning and rain came heavily in the night, just as the boat man had said it would. We ate berries and shared a croissant, then munched on baguette... is there a better breakfast? We enjoyed bird watching and people watching. I think we were enjoying the last cool day in Paris... all reports since have been about heat and humidity. We were fortunate. Paris may be beautiful, but I can do without heat and humidity while staying in a noisy hotel without AC.

On our way to our shaded chairs we were walking steps behind a vendor. Every where we went there were men carrying rings of Eiffel Tower key chains, souvenirs they sold in every size and color. It cannot be an easy way to make a living, and Paris is an expensive pace to live or visit, so these people must struggle to get by. The man in front of us carried hundred of shiny towers in his hands and a pack on his back with more inventory and... and an open pouch. Thinking and worrying about pickpockets and opportunistic thieves is a constant preoccupation in any city, Paris is certainly no exception, so I got his attention and in my highly qualified French (gestures and sympathetic mutterings) I explained that his bag was wide open. He looked stunned and took immediate action, he was only quietly grateful, but it was plain to see his relief, I even recognized the look of speculation as he considered what he might have lost. He turned his back and took a tower from his large hoop of dangling key chains and he slipped it in to Maria's hand, nodding his head, smiling. Maria loves her small treasure. I love that our souvenir is a memory of making contact... crossing the barrier between sightseeing and being engaged.


When the rest of the family came walking towards us from the direction of the Louvre, we could see they had enjoyed a good adventure. William wanted me to see the pictures they took and he described the images, the dark rooms beneath Paris where bones were amassed to empty the cemeteries that were dangerously overcrowded, beginning in the 1700's. It is a fascinating history... with stories still unfolding to this day. They had walked a long way beneath the city and came to the surface in an all together different part of town, but they made their way to our meeting place safe and sound and full of new impressions.


Now for the Louvre! Just as we packed the remains of our lunch and watched the giant pigeons enjoy our crumbs, we saw the sailboat man arrive with his boats. Geoff took Max and Maria for a last bit of sailing while William, Alex and I went to get museum tickets. The long line moved quickly and it was no problem walking in to the popular Pyramid entrance. The escalator takes you down below the pyramid and into a very modern and sunlit courtyard... as busy as the streets and courtyards above. We waited for the sailors in the book store... what a treasure room the book store is! Every art subject, in every language... surprisingly few nick-knacks, but loads and loads of books. I could have spent as much time in there as the actual museum.






What do you see at the Louvre? What don't you see at the Louvre? We knew we were never going to get the total package. The place is probably miles worth of art... miles and layers and corridors and levels and separate buildings... it goes on forever. Geoff decided we should see Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. I thought he was nuts for choosing two of the most popular pieces, but I was also grateful to have a plan... this place can easily stop you in your tracks just in the planning phase! And his plan turned out to be just fine. Yes, it was crowded, but we saw breathtaking Greek and Roman marble statues and we saw hundreds of Italian Renaissance paintings and we saw Her, "the lady," as Maria called the Mona Lisa.


In a very big room and surrounded by larger works sits a quiet and unassuming portrait of a pretty lady. She sits serenely and completely at ease with the crowds waiting for their turn in her presence. You can tell when someone finally focuses on the Mona Lisa, when they realize that their search is over and they are actually seeing La Gioconda... they gasp or sigh... no matter what language they spoke there were reverent utterances throughout the gallery.


Maria had been getting tired and losing interest, so I made a game. Sitting in a quieter corner, near the Winged Victory of Samothrace, I patted Maria's back, rubbed her little legs and let her tell me all of her woes...
“I'm tired and my feet hurt and this is just so long!
I sympathized on every point and then I sighed. I took a deep breath and said, “I want to go too, but we haven't seen the lady yet...”
She perked and asked “What lady?”
“Mona Lisa. She's here somewhere and we want to find her, because she is so beautiful. It would be sad if we could not see her pretty dress and long hair. She is smiling and she looks like a nice lady, but where can she be?”

Maria saw the print of the La Gioconda on the wall, with the arrow pointing in the direction of the gallery where we would find her. Having a mission and purpose, she led the way. We looked in to a lot of faces, Madonnas and angels, ladies and saints and Maria kept the pace eagerly looking for Mona Lisa. Success. Not only were we seeing art and moving along without dragging Maria, but Maria was completely engrossed in the search, and when at last she found her... Maria was enchanted and pleased.




William helped me get a picture of the crowded gallery, the people amassing in front of the tiny portrait. Alex reminded me that it's painted on a piece of wood, not canvas.


After Mona Lisa, William asked to see the rest of the Italian Renaissance paintings, so Geoff thought of a new theme for Maria's game... find ladies dressed in blue! Ladies in blue, in a gallery of Italian Renaissance paintings... brilliant! She loved this game very much and all of the lovely Madonnas and angels seemed as pleased and willing to play as Maria. Max and I sat together and talked about religious themes in art, about art patrons and expressions of faith. We saw a small painting of St. George slaying a dragon. Max sympathized with the dragon. Alex studied the guide and found an area where we could see Medieval Paris. Maria counted 42 ladies in Blue.





We found Venus de Milo. And Maria made up her own theme...find statues missing limbs. There were many examples of these and we explored more and more of the museum, without complaint.



Next Alex directed us down, below, where original buildings below the Louvre were excavated. Suddenly we were in Medieval Paris. The thick walls and dark recesses... it was a moving and almost chilling view of the hard life in those days. Walking through the rooms I could not help but feel the oppression, the struggle it must have been for most people to get by in Medieval Europe.


We needed air. On our way up and through the gallery of Greek and Roman statues, Maria decided on one more theme: Naked people. Max found this rather embarrassing, but given the art before us, I found it an entirely appropriate and observant theme. We found lots and lots of naked people.


Goodness... I am ready for a break! Just thinking of our last day in Paris has got me ready for a stretch and fresh air. We walked to Place de la Concorde. We rode a Metro to Ecole Militaire and walked to the Eiffel Tower. This time Alex and Geoff climbed the Tower. William, Max and I watched Maria play in her sandbox, in the playground beneath the southern leg of the Tower... this is where she played and made friends when William and Geoff climbed the Eiffel Tower. On that first visit to the playground and after two hours playing with other children, as we were leaving she said, “There are so many people talking French here!” Geoff and Alex joined us and we realized it was already after 9PM... that tricky non-sunset fooled us again. No dinner, exhausted and a very long way from our hotel, we did the only logical thing... we stayed to watch the sun finally set and to see the Eiffel Tower shimmer and sparkle. We sat with hundreds of Parisians and tourists, with rowdy revelers and picnicking families, with sweethearts drinking Champaign, and tour groups on Segways...


and we waited


and then we saw the Eiffel Tower light up the night... our last Paris night.